


saudade

by space_lions



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anxiety, Character Study, Depression, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, On Hiatus, a healthy mix of, ft. drunk!yuuri in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9061954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_lions/pseuds/space_lions
Summary: saudade (n) - a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something that does not and probably cannot exist
A story of lost inspiration and the discovery of new meanings of love.
Inspired by aina-p's art.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay so real quick here: this fic started out as a cute little oneshot about world champion!viktor getting lessons from oblivious skating teacher!yuuri (based on the wonderful comic, of course)
> 
> but since this is my first fic for yoi, i wanted to make it something really worthwhile, so this turned into a huge character study of both of them, using some canon events to further the story.
> 
> this is my first long fic, so i hope you enjoy it!
> 
>  
> 
> ***THIS FIC IS CURRENTLY ON INDEFINITE HIATUS***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4XEPdYO5mM) is the song yuuri skates to in this chapter
> 
> i also added the link when the music starts in the chapter, so you can use that one too!

A rush of cold air hit Viktor’s face as he exited the airport, his luggage in tow. He shivered, pulling his scarf up above the bridge of his nose. Makkachin barked beside him and Viktor scratched behind Makkachin’s ear, smiling as the dog whined and demanded more attention. To Makkachin’s dismay, he withdrew his hand, opting to instead grab his phone and open the address that Christophe had sent him.

_“Trust me on this!” Christophe proclaimed loudly, winking at Viktor. “You won’t regret it.”_

Viktor wasn’t doubtful of him, per se, but he wasn’t sure what to expect when Christophe had recommended a small, family-run onsen to him and told him it would definitely change his life. Still, he was grateful that Christophe took his temporary leave from skating with grace and declared his full support of Viktor’s choice. Viktor knew he was disappointed, especially since their rivalry had reached its peak at last year’s Grand Prix Final, and that only made him appreciate Chris’s friendship more.

He quickly sent Christophe a message saying that he had arrived in Hasetsu safely, then hailed a taxi. He wordlessly showed the driver the address and pulled Makkachin and his luggage into the backseat. As they drove, Viktor took in the soft pinks and purples of the sunset, admiring the snow-covered lights lining the road. It only felt like a few minutes until they arrived, and to his relief, the driver asked him for the money in English and he was able to get the payment sorted out.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Viktor trudged through the thick layer of snow on the ground and dragged his suitcase up to the door of the inn with Makkachin following closely behind. A small bell rang above him as he opened the door, and he proceeded towards the currently unoccupied front desk. A woman’s voice called out and was met with the grumbling of a younger woman, who appeared on the other side of the desk. Without sparing him a glance, she asked him something in rapid Japanese. When he didn’t answer, she started talking again, but in English.

“How can I hel-”

She cut off suddenly as she looked at him, eyes wide. _Ah_ , Viktor thought. _She knows who I am._

After a second, she recovered and tried again with a tight smile. “How can I help you?”

“I’d like to stay here for a few days. I’ve heard the onsen here is fantastic!” Viktor replied cheerfully, tapping his chin with one finger.

Viktor observed the woman (Mari, her name tag read) as she searched around the desk. Her messy brown hair was pulled back behind a headband, revealing earrings and multiple studs in her ear. She seemed awfully relaxed for someone who had almost jumped at the initial sight of him, but he pushed that thought aside, trying to ignore the pained look she had given him.

Mari pawed through some papers, pausing to scan some pages, then pushing one page towards Viktor along with a pen. He filled in the parts she had circled, then gave the paper back to her along with the initial payment for the inn.

She pressed a key attached to a lanyard onto the table. “Room 10.”

He grabbed the key and started to walk towards his room, but Mari’s voice stopped him.

“Um…”

Viktor looked over his shoulder to see Mari scratching the back of her head.

“I know you’re famous but...it’s a sensitive subject here. Skating. Well, professional skating.

“My brother has had some...personal issues with it in the past, so please refrain from talking about professional skating while you’re here.”

_Personal issues?_

Nonplussed, Viktor offered her a kind smile. “Of course.”

Mari sighed in relief, her forced smile turning into a real one. “That being said, we do have a rink if you’d like to practice,” she continued. “Feel free to ask for some practice time.”

Viktor bowed slightly in gratitude. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

He proceeded towards his room, unlocking the door and dropping his backpack next to the door. It was quite spacious, with a queen-sized bed in one corner. A small couch was wedged into the opposite corner next to a floor lamp, and across the room was a loveseat with a coffee table. He put his suitcase next to his bed, then kneeled down and unzipped it.

His nondescript black skating bag sat there, untouched since he had packed his life up into two bags and brought them on a trip across the world. He hesitated, his hand hovering inches above the bag before swiftly grabbing them, standing, and striding towards the door.

Makkachin let out a soft bark and Viktor turned around, giving a hug to the giant fluffball. He quickly got a bag of dog treats out of his suitcase and fed one to Makkachin, then scratched his ear for a few seconds before leaving, Makkachin’s remorseful whine growing quieter as he closed the door to his room.

Viktor walked out into the lobby and searched around for a local map of some sort. A stack of brochures and travel guides caught his eye and he sifted through them until… _Yes!_ He raised the map high with a triumphant laugh, feeling proud of himself until he looked up at it and realized that the map was of…all of Japan.

The map slipped from his fingers and slowly floated to the ground.

Laughter sounded from behind him and he whirled around to see Mari laughing at him.

“The rink is four blocks down the road on the right,” she snorted. “Unless you’re planning on skating in the snow.”

Viktor lowered his arm in embarrassment, but quickly recovered and gave her his signature wink. “Thanks!”

She simply raised her eyebrows in response and grinned, completely unaffected. Viktor pointedly ignored the look and continued outside.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he continued in the direction Mari had pointed him in. As he walked, he allowed himself to admire the last rays of sunshine as they disappeared from the sky, leaving behind brilliant shades of violet adorning the clouds.

He stopped and raised his hand towards the sky, palm facing up and covering his view of the waning moon. The stars, sprawled across the horizon, twinkled at him. Thinking back on his astronomy lessons, a phrase popped into his mind.

White dwarfs. Stars that had burned out, that barely emitted light after millions of years of shining.

Viktor felt like that.

As much as he loved skating, he found it harder and harder to enjoy it. Every practice, competition, performance drained him.

The judges loved him. Everyone loved him. Everyone considered him to be the greatest figure skater in the entire world. He dominated every competition, miles ahead of everyone. Everyone else lived in his shadow, shielded from the bright lights of victory by his presence, his very being.

But when the lights shined too brightly, he was the one that got blinded.

As he rose to the top, every practice started taking more out of him, a little piece of his life that he couldn't get back. The crowd started expecting more from him, but he was already giving it his all. Practice felt more and more like a chore, a responsibility with the threat of failure looming over him. When he skated in competitions, he was able to draw enough emotion up to sway the judges, but it left him feeling emptier every time.

_“Vitya...” Yakov began. “Can you get through the Grand Prix Final?”_

_And Viktor understood. If he left now, mere weeks before the Grand Prix Final, one of the biggest skating competitions in the world…_

_This was about more than just him. This was about the entire skating world. If he left now, he would leave with a wake of uproar and uncertainty among skaters and fans alike._

_He could leave after the Grand Prix Final. He could disappear without a trace, without a clue as to where he had gone. If he left now..._

_Viktor made up his mind._

_“Yes.”_

335.76.

The new world record.

He supposed he was more of a supernova.

_“What are you going to do now, Vitya?”_

_“I'm going to take a break from skating.”_

_“...temporarily?”_

_“I'm not sure.”_

_“How will you announce it?”_

_Viktor let out a small chuckle. Of course. Yakov knew better than to try and stop Viktor from any of his insane plans. He would complain to the ends of the earth and back about it, but he never once stopped Viktor from doing what he truly wanted._

_“I won't.”_

And he didn't. He didn’t tell anyone. He skillfully avoided questions during the post-competition interviews and brushed off the hushed whispers from his fans.

He stopped practicing; he didn’t even touch the ice.

All his life, everything he had ever known was skating. Taken out of class, taken out of work, taken out of life for twenty years to devote his entire being to skating.

_When that’s gone, what am I left with?_

A month had passed and Viktor had fallen so deep in a rut that he ended up asking Christophe for help, explaining his whole situation. Christophe was nothing but supportive, and he knew Viktor wanted to stay away from the figure skating world for a while, so he recommended a small town to stay in. 

_“Just keep in touch!” Christophe yelled at Viktor’s retreating figure. Viktor turned and raised a hand in farewell, returning Christophe’s smile._

Viktor trusted Christophe with his life, so he had simply packed his bags and left. And here he was, three days later.

He came back to his senses, realizing where he was and where he initially intended to go. His hand fell back to his side and he continued walking along the side of the road until he saw the building Mari had described.

The doors were unlocked, but the front desk was deserted, and from the lack of light behind the counter, Viktor doubted anyone was working. Glancing around, he spotted a sign taped to the wall with “RINK” in large letters. He followed the arrow on the sign until he reached a set of large double doors.

The lights were on in the rink. Viktor could tell that much. He didn’t see anyone from peering through the window, so he silently pulled open the door and stuck his head inside.

A man that looked to be around Viktor’s age was leaning against the boards, fiddling with his phone and a speaker. Viktor waited, body stuck between the doors, unsure of whether to enter or leave the man alone.

After a few seconds, the man put his phone down and skated out to the middle of the rink, striking a pose with one leg bent at the knee and his hands clasped behind his back.

_Is he…_

The [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4XEPdYO5mM) started, soft and peaceful, and the man moved in time, gliding elegantly across the ice. Even from the very beginning of the song, it was obvious he had been skating for many years. The ease with which he moved was apparent, and there was not a hint of tension in his body. As his body twisted to prepare for a jump, Viktor’s mind was still running through a million thoughts about skating and technique and form.

He soared through a flawless triple axel with grace, landing perfectly and continuing without hesitation.

Viktor’s mind went completely blank, except for one thought.

 _Who_ is _he?_

The mystery man drifted through his program, seamlessly incorporating all kinds of jumps and spins into his beautiful skating.

Triple toe.

Double Lutz.

Combination spin.

 _Quadruple_ toe.

Viktor’s jaw dropped open, but he wasn’t just mesmerized by the mystery man’s technique.

It was the way he _moved_. It was the way he put his whole body, no, his whole _being_ into his skating. But there was something more to it. Viktor had seen all of that; he saw it every time he competed.

But this man...there was something different about the way he skated. He moved without a motive, a drive. He skated...freely. It was in the way his fingers skimmed the ice, how it looked like he was reaching out to the ice like an old friend. It was in the blissful look on his face, the intimacy between him and the ice, the pure _emotions_ flowing through him.

_That. Right there. That’s what it’s supposed to feel like._

Viktor knew how it felt to skate like that. He knew, but he hadn’t felt like that in a long time.

A longing feeling rose up in him, something dangerously close to nostalgia.

_That’s what I’m looking for._

The man slid into another combination spin as the music ended softly, ending with both arms raised towards the ceiling and his eyes closed.

Viktor stood frozen there, still captivated by the lasting remnants of his skating. After a few seconds, he started clapping, and the man’s eyes jolted open and he whirled around towards the noise.

They made eye contact, terrible, terrible eye contact, and Viktor realized the situation he was in: an almost empty rink at night, still wedged between two doors and clapping for a man he had never seen before in his life.

Pushing the door open, Viktor moved towards the ice, skating bag completely forgotten at the door. The skater was eyeing him warily as he grabbed his glasses from the sidelines and put them on, a mix of confusion and panic etched on his face.

Viktor completely intended to introduce himself properly. He really did. He was going to proclaim “I’m Viktor Nikiforov!” with a charming smile and a wink; that always did the trick.

But apparently the forces of nature had other plans.

The moment Viktor stepped on the ice, he had a horrible moment of realization that he was, in fact, not wearing skates. He was wearing shoes. Very wet and _slippery_ shoes.

_Shit._

He fell almost comically, his feet sliding out from under him and his body lurching forward. He braced himself for the impact of the ice, arms coming up to shield his beautiful, irreplaceable face from harm.

But the impact never came.

Two strong hands grabbed his forearms and he fell face first into someone’s chest. When he pulled back and glanced up, he saw the skater’s worried face looking down at him.

He said something in rapid Japanese, and repeated it in English after seeing Viktor’s puzzled face. “Are you okay?”

Viktor nodded, still trying to regain his balance and miserably failing.

The mystery man grinned cheekily, eyes twinkling. “Just so you know, we generally wear skates on the ice so this sort of thing doesn’t happen.”

_Apparently everyone around here knows who I am._

Viktor returned the skater’s grin with a self-confident smirk. “I think I’ve got that figured out, thanks.”

The skater raised his eyebrows, pointedly looking at Viktor’s feet, which were still struggling to stop moving. “If you’d like to start skating, we have some beginner skates that you could use. You’d have to rent them though.”

Viktor froze, his shoes finally staying in one spot.

_Wait..._

“They’re not that expensive,” he continued. “I can probably get Yuuko to get you a discount.” 

_What._

“I’ll say you’re a important guest or something; that should do it.”

_Holy shit._

“Though I don’t think she would really mind if she found out.”

_He can’t be serious right now._

“She trusts me to not screw the business ove-hey, are you okay?”

_Does he..._

“Hello? A-are you okay?”

_Does he not know who I am?_

“Did you hit your head or something? Oh god, are you hurt? Did I hit you? Did you fall badly? Where did you fall? Did you break something?” The skater’s voice grew frantic, and his grip on Viktor’s arms tightened like a vice.

_He doesn’t know who I am. **He doesn’t know who I am.**_

Viktor snapped to his senses, blinking rapidly up at him. The man’s concerned face was inches away from his, brown eyes roaming his face for any sign of injury.

“Wha-oh no, I’m fine, I’m fine!” Viktor rushed to reassure him as he pulled himself up to full height. He tilted his head down to look down the skater, who still had a death grip on his arms.

“You’re not hurt?” he asked tentatively, peering up at him through his glasses.

“I’m completely fine,” Viktor insisted, gently pulling his arms back towards him. The man immediately let go and his face flushed in embarrassment.

“Ah, sorry...” He trailed off and started fiddling with his hands nervously.

_Where did all his confidence go?_

Viktor smiled at him, then turned to get back off the ice. The skater trailed closely behind him and sat down on the bench, starting to unlace his skates. Viktor leaned against the wall and stared out at the ice. The skater worked in silence, neither of them speaking until he put his skates in his bag and stood up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Viktor winked at him. “I’m totally fine!”

The skater’s cheeks glowed red and he shuffled his feet.

“At least let me bring you to wherever you’re staying,” he declared, and Viktor saw a sliver of his confidence from before seeping into him.

_Why not?_

“I’m staying at the inn down the road!” Viktor exclaimed. “My friend told me the onsen is just fantastic!”

“Ah, my family runs that inn,” the skater mentioned offhandedly.

“Wow!” Viktor gasped. “Let’s go!”

They exited the rink and Viktor glanced behind them to where his skating bag was still laying, in the secluded corner of the hallway. He could just grab it next time, because he had a feeling that he’d be coming back.

Once they got outside, Yuuri pulled out a key attached to a lanyard and fiddled with the lock on the doors. As he moved from door to door, Viktor turned to the skater and introduced himself.

“By the way, I’m Viktor!”

Locking the final door, the skater faced Viktor and, with a shy smile, replied, “I’m Katsuki Yuuri. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RwUwThMSVSA) is a wonderful program skated to liebestraum that i kinda based yuuris program off of.
> 
> and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bGlG3Hus-KQ) is one of the most breathtaking pairs programs ive seen, and its also skated to liebestraum.
> 
>  
> 
> next up: onsens and alcohol


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i'm playing around with different writing styles (especially with viktors thoughts and how theyre structured), so bear with me! i'm always open to feedback and suggestions, so please tell me what you think!
> 
> [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXeWiixwEz4) is the music that yuuri and viktor dance to, i've added a link to where the music starts in the fic as well.
> 
> are y'all ready for drunken dancing or what?

_Katsuki Yuuri._

Viktor glanced over at him. His hands fiddled with the hem of his thick brown coat, which was pulled up above his mouth. His short black hair was a complete mess, falling just below his eyebrows. The dim light from the streetlights reflected off of a pair of blue-rimmed glasses, which sat on the bridge of his nose. His eyes flitted around, looking anywhere but Viktor.

Everything about him screamed _nervous_. The restless air around him had only escalated, and he hadn’t stopped playing with his hands since he finished locking up the rink.

A thousand thoughts were running through Viktor’s head, and all of them happened to be related to the mysterious skating expert who had _no idea who he was_. Him. Viktor Nikiforov. Reigning skating champion of…well, everything really.

And if he truly didn’t know who Viktor was, then _why the hell was he so nervous?_

“So, Yuuri!” Viktor started cheerfully, pretending not to notice how Yuuri jumped at his sudden outburst. “You’re really good at skating!”

“Ahh, well I wouldn’t say th-”

“How long have you been skating? It must have taken years of practice to skate like _that_.”

“I- I started when I was 6, so I don’t know...sixteen years maybe? Seventeen? Wait, that’s including the time I too-”

“Are you a competitive skater?”

Yuuri froze.

Suddenly, everything clicked in Viktor’s mind. _The inn. Mari. His skating._

_Nice going, Nikiforov. You had_ one _job._

“I’ve seen competitive skaters do those complicated jumps!” Viktor said, furiously trying to change the subject. He played up his charm as much as he could, pouring sugar into his voice. “Apparently there’s different types, but it’s just _impossible_ to tell them apart. I was hoping you could teach me about them!”

Yuuri stared at Viktor for what felt like an eternity, and Viktor felt the life draining out of him.

_Goodbye, cruel world. Tell Makkachin I love him. Tell Yakov that he needs a drink. Tell Yurio to r-_

“The difference between jumps is the side of your skate that you use,” Yuuri said quietly, looking ahead.

It was Viktor’s turn to stare. “Huh?”

“Y-you can jump from the inside or outside part of your skate. That’s what makes all the jumps different.”

Viktor’s shoulders sagged, letting out a quiet exhale. _Crisis averted._

“There’s um...there’s six types of jumps. There’s toe loops; you jump from the outside part and land on the same side of the same skate. And there’s also, um, regular loops, which are...the same. Er, well, you use the toe pick at the front of the skate for the toe loop; that’s why it’s called a _toe_ loop, but I guess that’s kind of obvious...”

Yuuri’s face relaxed as he rambled, slowly becoming more energetic as he went through all of the jumps in detail. He was telling Viktor things he had known for over 15 years, but Viktor didn’t mind. He was still in shock from narrowly missing the huge bombshell he had been _specifically_ told to _avoid_.

But even after that whole spectacle, Viktor was still utterly confused by Yuuri. _He completely froze when I brought up competition, but he relaxed by talking about_ jumps _of all things. Jumps! Those aren’t exactly unrelated._

“...that’s why they’re the hardest ones to do; you have to do another half rotation. That’s why you start the jump, you know, going forwards and land going backwards.” Yuuri said. He turned to look at Viktor, but completely missed his face and focused on something behind Viktor as a grin appeared on his face. Oh, hey, we’re at the inn!”

Viktor followed Yuuri into the inn. Yuuri yelled, “I’m home!” and was greeted by Mari, whose feet were propped up on the desk. Her eyebrows immediately raised when she saw Viktor enter behind him.

“Ahh, Mari, this is Viktor!” Yuuri said, turning back to smile at Viktor. “I met him at the rink!”

Mari’s eyebrows went even further up on her forehead. Viktor reckoned she was _very_ curious to know what exactly he had told Yuuri.

“Is that _so_?” Mari sent a pointed look at Viktor. Viktor tried (and failed) to silently communicate that _no,_ he didn’t tell Yuuri who he was, so _stop sending him death glares._

“Yeah, I was thinking Yuuko could get him a pair of skates and he could start skating!” Yuuri glanced over at Viktor, then quickly stumbled to correct himself. “Ah, I mean- like, only if you _want_ to, you cou- I mean- I just assumed-”

Viktor wasn’t sure how much higher up Mari’s eyebrows could go, nor did he want to find out, so he swiftly cut Yuuri off.

“Maybe later! For now, I’d love something to eat!” _If I could just really quickly make sure your sister doesn’t accidentally slap me with a frying pan, I’d really appreciate it._

“O-oh yeah, of course!” Yuuri scrambled around the room, dropping his bag behind the desk, hanging his coat up, and finally making his way around the corner and out of sight.

Mari watched him go, then immediately turned on Viktor, crossing her arms across her chest. Those eyebrows were still precariously high and it was freaking Viktor out. _Eyebrows just...shouldn’t move that much._

“Care to explain?”

“He doesn’t know,” Viktor said. “I swear; I didn’t tell him anything. I tried to go on the ice with shoes on and I slipped and he caught me and I guess he thought I was a beginner? But if I told him I knew how to skate, then I’d have to tell him who I am, so I just…..didn’t.”

Mari stared at him in disbelief. “...so now he thinks you’ve, like, never touched ice before.”

“...yeah.”

Mari was silent for a moment.

Then she burst out laughing at him for the second time that night.

“I-I’m sorry, but how did you manage to get yourself into a situation like _this_ ?” Mari said between laughs. “You... _you_ of all people!”

Viktor felt the tension leave his body, and he started to chuckle alongside Mari. It really was an absurd situation. _The_ world champion of skating pretending to have never been on the ice in his life. And what for? An unknown skater with “personal issues” with competitive skating? _What was his deal with competitive skating anyways?_

Viktor opened his mouth to ask her about Yuuri and what exactly happened to him, but Yuuri came back into the lobby at that exact moment as if Viktor had summoned him with his thoughts.

“Um! Dinner is ready, i-if you’d like to join us!”

Viktor shared a look with Mari, whose eyebrows had thankfully dropped back to their normal spot on her face. She rose from her chair, motioning towards the hallway with her head.

* * *

Viktor clapped his hands together. “Vkusno!”

Yuuri’s mother, Hiroko, smiled at him from across the room as they served the other guests. She had been more than happy to give him seconds after he had thoroughly cleaned his entire bowl.

Viktor tore his gaze from the soccer game on TV and looked over at Yuuri, who was sitting next to him. Yuuri had just finished his third glass of champagne and was currently pouring another one. His face was slightly flushed from the alcohol and he glanced over at Viktor, then did a double take. Viktor winked at him, giving him a flirty smile and raising his own glass to take a sip. A blush spread across Yuuri’s cheeks and his eyes widened before he turned back to the TV and took a large swig of his drink.

A few minutes passed and Viktor could tell Yuuri was getting a little more than tipsy from the way he started swaying back and forth after he slammed his fifth...no, sixth glass of champagne down on the table, making the dishes rattle.

He started to get mildly concerned when Yuuri grabbed the entire bottle and tried pouring another glass for himself, only to spill and start drinking straight from the bottle instead.

An advertisement started playing on TV, and Yuuri stumbled over to the TV and somehow switched the sound to the radio, champagne bottle still in hand. The radio started playing an upbeat song and Yuuri started dancing, almost tripping over a table when he turned around.

Viktor looked to Hiroko for...well, _any_ reaction really, but she was just smiling and pushing all the tables to the side with the help of Mari and her husband, who were both acting as if it was a regular occurrence. _Hell, maybe it is_.

Viktor couldn’t help but grin. The guests, him included, had all moved to the edges of the room because Yuuri, still drunkenly dancing with his champagne bottle, had taken over almost the entire floor, and his family was _cheering him on_.

Yuuri’s tie had slightly loosened and his dress shirt came untucked and his hair was completely disheveled and flying around his face as he danced and _damn_ , if that wasn’t a huge turn-on for Viktor.

He pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures. _For posterity, of course._

He watched Yuuri dance and dance and occasionally take a huge gulp of champagne and accidentally drop the bottle and then continue dancing. Viktor had joined him on the makeshift dance floor after approximately one song, and they jumped and danced around each other like a couple of carefree teenagers. Multiple songs passed, and they were the only two really into it, even though a few of the other guests had started to shuffle their feet.

Viktor was enjoying himself. A lot. He felt happy...giddy even. He felt drunk, even though he knew he only had one glass of champagne (and _no_ , he wasn’t a lightweight, even if he couldn’t hold his own against Yakov). Drunk on happiness, then. Or...or drunk on something else. He felt drunk though; he knew that much.

He saw Mari sneaking over to the radio with a huge grin on her face, but didn’t think anything of it until the music suddenly cut out. Within seconds, a new [piece](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXeWiixwEz4) came on; it was a Cuban piece, starting out with a quiet clarinet solo.

Viktor looked back to Yuuri and was _not_ prepared for what he saw; Yuuri had started dancing as intimately as the music suggested, taking small steps and swaying his hips to the beat of the claves.

Viktor was staring; he knew he was. He knew how dazed his eyes must look; how enthralled he must seem.

He snapped out of it when the oboe came in, stepping back onto the dance floor and mimicking Yuuri’s steps from before as Yuuri simply swayed.

The rest of the orchestra joined in, and Yuuri started taking larger, swifter steps, and Viktor moved more as well, starting to copy Yuuri. Yuuri’s movements repeated a lot, so it was easy for Viktor to match his every step.

As the trombones made their thunderous entrance, Viktor strode right where he knew Yuuri could see him. They started dancing in circles around each other, flitting in and out of each other’s space. He saw a hint of a grin on Yuuri’s face as he whipped his suit jacket off, tossing it to the side.

The music gradually sped up and Viktor’s heart rate soon followed as Yuuri moved closer to him. Much, _much_ closer. Viktor barely had time to register exactly how close they had gotten before Yuuri grabbed his hands and pulled Viktor towards him.

It took Viktor a total of two seconds to realize that Yuuri was salsa dancing. It took him another second to realize that he had already started to dance along with Yuuri, letting himself get pulled along. Yuuri had completely taken the lead, twirling Viktor around with confidence in every step.

They weren’t doing anything complex; both of them were much too unfocused for that. Yuuri had a legitimate reason for that: he was completely and utterly shit-faced and would probably get a hangover from hell the next morning. But Viktor…Viktor had no excuse. He was drunk on Yuuri’s energy; he was drawn in like a moth to a flame. Viktor hadn’t stopped looking at Yuuri for more than a second, maintaining eye contact with him as much as possible.

Yuuri suddenly dipped him, perfectly timed with the music, and he felt his breath leave him as Yuuri promptly pulled him back up and continued dancing, swinging his body to the beat.

His hand skimmed Viktor’s hip as he pulled away, just as the music dramatically slowed.

A piano solo started, quiet but forceful, and Yuuri offered a hand to Viktor. The rest of the room melted away, and all Viktor could focus on was Yuuri.

_Ah._

Viktor was no stranger to danzones; he knew what he was doing. He took Yuuri’s offered hand and pressed their palms flat against each other’s, raising their arms up. Yuuri’s other hand found its way to Viktor’s shoulder, and Viktor put his free hand on the small of Yuuri’s back.

A violin came in, playing a lyrical solo, and Yuuri pulled their bodies together, leaving mere centimeters between their bodies. Their cheeks were nearly pressing, and Viktor could feel Yuuri’s hot breath on his ear. He could feel the warmth of Yuuri’s hand through his thin dress shirt, the weight of Yuuri’s palm against his. The only word he could use to describe their position was _intimate_.

Yuuri led him, once again, pressing his body weight against Viktor to signal his movements. Viktor closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the music and in the dance. The music swelled and Yuuri slowly twirled Viktor, pulling him in even closer than before, and Viktor momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Viktor could feel every movement of Yuuri’s body as he danced. Yuuri never stopped moving his hips, and his lips ghosted over Viktor’s ear in a manner that was very much intentional.

As the orchestra quieted, Yuuri backed off a little, giving Viktor just enough space to properly catch his breath. The chord resolved and the music faded out, and Viktor felt disappointment settling in his chest as Yuuri pulled away from him.

The low brass bursted through the speakers as the piece continued forcefully. Viktor’s eyes snapped up to meet Yuuri’s. Yuuri was smirking, one edge of his mouth quirked up with a knowing look in his eyes, and _god_ , that did something to Viktor.

He stepped back into Yuuri’s space, only for Yuuri to step right back out. The tension built as the trumpet started playing and the music grew. Yuuri finally moved towards Viktor and twirled him right as the full orchestra cut out.

When the orchestra came back in, they started dancing separately, waiting for the tension in the music to peak.

The music gradually increased and they grabbed each other’s hands, dancing faster and more confidently than before. Yuuri kept them moving, spinning both of them until Viktor literally couldn’t focus on anything but Yuuri. Viktor lost himself in the music once again, and everything started to blur together into one long moment.

Yuuri pulled him close as the music suddenly quieted, keeping their movements limited. He started exaggerating his steps as the music swelled and then they were dancing full on like before and then Yuuri dipped him right as the music ended with a flourish.

It took Viktor’s brain a moment to catch up and realize just how close Yuuri’s sweaty, panting face was to his own sweaty, panting face. Yuuri was grinning from ear to ear and Viktor realized that he couldn’t keep his own huge grin off of his face.

The room erupted into applause as Yuuri pulled Viktor back up on two feet into that glorious chest of his, still grinning at him. Then Yuuri winked, he fucking _winked_ at Viktor, and then disappeared in the sea of guests blocking the hallway.

Viktor found his way over to a table littered with champagne bottles and poured himself another glass, unable to stop smiling. His heart was pounding in his chest and adrenaline was coursing through his body. But it was different from being on the ice. It didn’t leave him feeling empty. It left him feeling light, like he could walk on water if he put his mind to it. He hadn’t felt this way in...god, he couldn’t even remember. Months? Years?

How long had it been since he was able to completely let go of his inhibitions and just...have fun?

How long had it been since he felt truly happy?

Viktor downed his glass and started walking towards the hallway.

“Viktorrrrrrrrr...”

He turned his head to see Yuuri, even drunker and also sporting his tie around his head, stumbling towards him. Yuuri immediately tripped when Viktor turned around and Viktor caught him by the forearms, but he still fell straight into Viktor’s chest. Instead of pulling himself up, he snuggled into Viktor’s chest and, when Viktor’s grip loosened in surprise, wrapped his arms around Viktor and starting _grinding_ on him.

“Vikkkktooooooor...y-you should...y’should try skating…I could….teach you,” Yuuri slurred, pressing his hips up against Viktor’s. His unfocused eyes suddenly lit up. “If...if I win this dance off…” _What dance off?_ “....you’ll let me be your coach, right?”

He threw his arms around Viktor’s neck, giving him an uninhibited, hopeful smile. Viktor’s breath hitched.

“Let me be your coach, Viktor!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> viktor nikiforov is a human disaster and you can pry that from my cold dead hands.
> 
> also i took a lot of liberties with mari's character because we really dont know much about her, but i like to think she's very protective and supportive of her little brother. thats why she's kinda hostile towards viktor, because she doesn't want yuuri getting hurt. she'll warm up to him tho.
> 
> if you want to learn about the differences between skating jumps, [here's](http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/02/gif-guide-figure-skaters-jumps-olympics/357723/) a link for a guide that i used!
> 
> i'm going back to school this week, so the update may be delayed, but i'll try my best to update once a week! i hope you have a great 2017!
> 
> as always, feedback and suggestions are always welcome! please leave a comment below!
> 
> next up: hangovers and skating lessons


	3. Author's Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclaimer: this is just an author's note, not another actual chapter of writing. Sorry if I got your hopes up.

Okay, so I'm gonna get right to it. I'm putting this fic on an indefinite hiatus. I've added a hiatus notice to the fic. I feel like I owe it to you all as readers to tell you and to explain myself, so:

School is kicking my ass right now and I'm having trouble finding time to write.

But I've also realized more than a few things about Yuri!!! on Ice that really turned me away from the show.

I've seen too many instances of fujoshi baiting, fetishization, fatphobia, and unhealthy things in general in the show, and the fetishization, misogyny, homophobia, biphobia, and other bullshit in the fandom has put me off so much that I've blacklisted the tag, and I won't be undoing that any time soon.

As a bisexual girl, it pains me to see this happening, and I feel far too uncomfortable to keep writing for a show (created by a straight woman) that fetishizes and sexualizes gay/bi men, and for an audience that comes from a fandom with a large amount of straight people who think that sexualizing and fetishizing LGBT+ people counts as representation and being an ally.

And yes, I believe that Yuri!!! on Ice is fetishization, and is no more representation than any other yaoi anime that's marketed towards straight girls. If you're unsure of why I think so, please send me an ask or message on Tumblr. I'd be happy to explain my point of view if you don't understand.

If you're straight, I'm asking to you be wary of how you consume any LGBT+ media, and please, please, _please_ don't speak over actual LGBT+ people about representation and homophobia and the likes. Your words and actions affect those around you, and it's not your place to speak out about whether something's homophobic or not.

So tl;dr this fic is going on an indefinite hiatus because I'm not trying to find the time to write it. I will keep writing, but it'll be for the other fandoms that I'm in.

Thank you for your support.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment and tell me what you thought! Constructive criticism is always welcome!
> 
> You can find me at [space-lions](http://space-lions.tumblr.com)!


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